


Be Careful What You Wish For

by Goorey_Holes



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Repugnant (Band)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Mary is an ass, POV Female Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28523538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goorey_Holes/pseuds/Goorey_Holes
Summary: All you want is to fuck Mary Goore and he obliges
Relationships: Mary Goore/Reader
Kudos: 11





	Be Careful What You Wish For

The Basement has been around since the 80s and is _the_ local hotspot; with its dim lighting and DIY sound system, the club is the perfect place for underground music, fetish nights, drug deals, and drunk hookups. Located in a basement-level space, anyone unfamiliar with the club might think their date was leading them to their unfortunate dismemberment, but anyone who’s anyone knows it's _the_ place to be Thursday thru Saturday nights.

Tonight is no different, and you’re there with your crew because you’re young and full of steam that’s ready to blow. The black lights are on, illuminating not only the bills and stickers adorning the walls but also any other crud and … fluid susceptible to the light range. You smile a gash of black lips and bright teeth as you do another shot of Jäger with your party before letting out a woop and jumping back into the mosh pit.

Tonight, a heavy metal band is on stage, in their uniform of ripped clothes and studs, shredding their guitars and shrieking into the mics. They’re just the right shade of fuck you pale, their hair just bottled black enough, that you’d wrap your thighs around any of their slim waists for a wild ride.

But it’s the lead guitarist—Mary Goore—that has you drooling and elbowing your way to the lip of the stage.

His nimble fingers, plump thighs, and beefy neck pull at your gut and have you longing for a way to satisfy the desire pooling there. If you could, you’d crawl onto the stage and suck him off in front of the entire crowd. Instead, you press into the edge of the stage and rub your tits at him. It elicits a brief glance—which isn’t enough to satisfy you, so you lean back and let your hand travel down your stomach and into the waistband of your skirt. 

You really do run a finger over your clit as you fight to trap his gaze, and finally, you’re rewarded with a raised eyebrow. Biting your lip, you wink at him before removing your finger to quirk at him in a come hither movement. He snorts at the gesture right before he stomps around his area to display his superior playing prowess during his solo—but you’re sure you’ve gotten your invitation across: this pussy is his; he just needs to come and get it.

The band finishes their set in a miasma of sweat, spit, and feedback, and you make one more bid for Mary’s attention as you lift your ripped band tee to show off the bottom of your pleather bra. You pout when he gestures vaguely at the crowd before thanking everyone and bouncing off the stage with his bandmates.

That’s ok, though. You’re not one to give up easily.

The Basement isn’t a proper club, not really. Sure, it’s a staple, and it has a bar and a raised stage … but it’s also all concrete floors, and the green room is more of a storage closet than a place for the talent to hang out. Most of the bands just congregate out at the bar where they enjoy the free attention and drinks. So it’s easy enough to worm your way through the crowd surrounding Mary. It helps that “shame” isn’t in your personal dictionary.

Life’s short, yo.

You watch Mary watch you jostle your way through the gaggle of fans; his eyes are hooded and his body is lax against the bar.

“Hi,” you say as you wiggle your way onto a bar stool.

“Hey,” he says back, and you’re pleased to note that it’s at the expense of the woman he was in the middle of talking with.

You spread your legs and lean forward—resting your hands on the flat of the bar stool—into his space.

“Do ya wanna go somewhere?” you purr, hoping that from this angle he can see right down your shirt, as you grind down into the seat.

Mary considers you for a minute—his eyes traveling up and down your body—before taking 3 big gulps of what either must be a gin & tonic or vodka & soda, then slamming the tumbler down on the bartop.

“Aight. Lessgo.”

You earn some dirty scowls and eye rolls, but: whatever. They’re just jelly you’re getting what they want.

Mary leads you to the green room, never turning back to make sure you’re following. 

The green room is as shitty as the rest of the club. It’s big enough for a worn and tattered love seat, a few cubbies, crates that must be used as seats, and a rickety-looking card table that doesn’t look as if it’s been cleaned since this place first opened its doors.

You’re barely through the doorway before Mary is on you. His chest presses into your back as his teeth bite into your neck and his hands grab at your tits and cunt, respectively. You moan and arch into him, your hands reaching behind you to grab onto anything of his they come into contact with. 

“Yeah, is this what you wanted, huh?”

“Oh, yes!” you moan.

You let him walk you forward until your stomach hits the edge of the folding table.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?”

“Yes!”

He presses you down into the surface of the table with a hand on your back—and you make an effort to ignore whatever sticky substance makes contact with your skin—while the other pushes up your skirt. You spread your legs apart, and he half yanks, half rips your panties out of the way.

“Then I’m gonna fuckin’ give it to ya.”

You hear the clink of his belts and the peel of his zipper before you feel the telltale pressure at your entrance. The only warning you get is the clamp of his one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip before he’s shoving his dick into you. You hiss a little at the rough penetration, but soon enough your juices are slicking his way.

His body drapes over your back, and you can hear his rasping breaths as his hips jackhammer into you. The folding table is thumping into the wall, and its joints creak with each slam of Mary’s hips into your ass.

“I…wait…” you say as you try to find a comfortable position, but Mary just grunts as he humps you faster.

He’s breathing heavily now with the strain of his pace, his body heavy on yours, as you squirm to find a comfortable position. At this angle, you can’t get an arm under you, and Mary’s hands seem to be preoccupied with holding you in place.

You’re being half jolted up the surface of the table as the edge of it digs into your stomach while Mary slams into you again and again in an ever-increasing tempo. The table squeaks and groans, and you’re afraid it might vibrate apart.

“Wait…hold on…” you gasp, but then Mary lets out a grunt low in his throat as he slams into you as hard as he can. You let out a gasp of air before he slams into you once more with an even deeper groan.

All you can do is lie on the table in stunned silence as you feel the warmth of Mary’s cum fill you. He pulls out of you with a satisfied sigh, and you can feel the hot of his wet cock as it leaves you.

You try to lean up on your elbows, but Mary’s hand is back on you, pressing you down.

“One sec, hotness,” he says right before you hear the digital click of a camera.

When you whip your head around, you see Mary’s phone aimed in between your legs. Seeing you looking at him agape over your shoulder, he smirks at you.

“Gotta love that money shot. Hey—think you can squeeze a little more out for me?”

You bolt upright, tugging your skirt back into place.

“What about me?!” you demand.

Mary tucks his phone back into his pocket and his dick back into his jeans.

“What about you?”

You make a frustrated, plaintive gesture at your pussy.

Mary just flips his forelock out of the way and smirks at you.

“You got to say you fucked Mary Goore.” He winks and gestures two fingers at you. “Thank you for your service.”

He turns on his heel and saunters out of the room, even as his cum drips down your thighs.


End file.
